Something snapped inside him. Something that had festered for a lot of years. Something that cut him every time he’d heard that desperate keening.

“Because he was tortured here,” Theran shouted. “Here, in this house. For two years they beat him and hurt him and did things he only remembers in nightmares. And do you know why they did that? Because they thought he was me! Because that bitch thought she had captured the last of the Grayhaven line, and she savored every wound she inflicted.

“And he never told them they’d caught the wrong boy. Never told them he wasn’t Grayhaven. Jared Blaed. That was his name then. Cousins through our mothers, who could trace their line back to Thera and Blaed. He protected me in the only way he could for two years.”

Theran turned, paced, circled. Wanted to beat her with words.

“Do you think I want him out in that damn shed? No, Lady, I don’t.” He blinked back the tears stinging his eyes—and refused to see the tears in hers. “But he’s terrified to come into this house. He won’t even come to the kitchen door to get food. We bring it out to the stables for him. He had to come with us. We couldn’t leave him in the mountain camp, even though the other rogues up there were willing to look after him. But he’s in that shed because it’s the best he can do. All he can tolerate.”

Cassidy squared her shoulders and raised her chin. “I’m sorry for that. I didn’t know. But that doesn’t change anything,Theran. He is your family, and he will have a room in the family wing.”

“Haven’t you been listening?”

“I don’t care if he never sets foot in this house or never sets foot in that room, but he will have a proper room in the family wing, just like you and Talon. He will know it is there if he wants it. And if he’s more comfortable staying in the shed, then it will be fixed up.”

“We can’t afford to be—” Theran began.

“This isn’t a suggestion, and it’s not a request,” Cassidy snapped. “This is an order, Prince. Get it done.”

She started to turn away, then turned back. “And I think we should agree on a division of labor from here on in, Grayhaven. You do what you can—and I’ll do what’s important.”

She turned to leave the room—and Ranon skipped out of her way, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. The other men who had come in scrambled to give her a clear path to the door.

“Hell’s fire, Theran,” Ranon said softly. “That woman is pissed.”

“Yeah,” Theran said. “I guess she is.” He felt shaky, as if he’d clashed with an enemy far more deadly than he’d expected.

“Theran?”